The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-11-03

Mary Ann McGrath was in q terri
BILE frame OF mind. What had become
of Peter?
She had gone out to look down the
road and had been recalled by Mum.
Der Eleven's crying. Number Ten
then climbed in, Nine too awoke and
determined to resume his privileges as
an infant. One after another they
got up and huddled around her-crav-
ing, craving-all but the three eldest,
who had been practically initiated IN.
to the stoical philosophy with the
gradual decrease of their rations. But
these bounced up suddenly at the
sound OF q grand jangle of bells.
Could it be? Mr.. Pontiac they had
no doubt about, but WAS that real
bacon that he laid on the kitchen ia.
BILE? Then a side of beef, a can of tea;
next a bag of -four, and again an act
ual keg of syrup. Why, this was al.
most Incl edible! And last he came in
with an immense round loaf of bread!
The children gathered about it; old
John almost sickened with sorrow for
them, and hurrying out his jackknife,
passed big hunks around.
"Well. now, Mrs. McGrath," ne said
during these operations, II don't
hardly take it kindly OF you and Pc
ter not to have come up to an old
neighbours house before this for g. bit
of u loan. It's we'll l met Peter to.
night. Maybe he'd never have told
me your troubles-not but what
blame myself for not suspecting how
it was bit sooner. l just made him
take q little loan for the present. No,
no, don't b. talking that way. Char
ity! tut! it's just an advance OF wages.
I've got a job for Peter; he'll be on
pay tomorrow again."
At that Mary Ann burst out crying
again. "Oh, God bless you, Mr.. Pom
tiac, it's a kind man you arel May
the saints be about your bed!"
With that she ran out to Peter,
who still stood by the sleigh; she put
the baby in his arms and clinging, to
her husbands shoulder, cried more
and more.
And what did obstinate Peter Nc.
Grath do? Why, he cried too, with
gasps and groans that seemed almost
to Kill him.
"Go in" he said; go in, Mary Ann
go inland kiss-tne feet of him.
Yes-and the boords-he stands on.
You don't know-what he's done-tor
me. It's broke am-the bad heart
of me-broke entirely-with the good
ness of him. May the heavens be his
bed!"
"Now, Mrs. McGrath," cried old
John, ''never you mind Peter; he's a
bit lieht.headed tonight. Come away
in and get bite for him. I'd like a
dish of tea myself before 90 home."
Didn't that touch on her irish hos
pitality bring her in quickly!
mind you this, Peter" eaid the
old man. going out then, ''don't you
be troubling your wife with any little
secrets about tonight; that's be.
tween you and me. That's all I ask
of you"
Thus it comes about that to this day,
when Peter McGrath's fifteen children
have helped him to become q very
prosperous farmer, his wife does not
quite understand .hedepth of Worship
with which he speaks of old John
Pontiac.
Mrs. Pontiac never knew the story
of the night.
"Never mind who it was, Jane, :"
John said, turning out the light, EEK.
cept this-it was q neighbor in sore
trouble. And let US bless the good.
ness Of God that saves from the terri.
blest temptations, and thank Him
most especially when He inclinee ouc
hearts to His most mercliul laws"
F. w. THOMSON.